


Broken

by liionne



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:25:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire got some bad news, and then he got drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

It was late when Enjolras left the library, lter than it should have been, and he was silently cursing himself for staying so long. The student library at the university was open till midnight - who the hell was going to stay until midnight? - but he had only been meaning to stay until 7. Now it was ten o'lock and he was on his way home, rain beating down on his shoulders, soaking through that red blazer he had bought so many years ago, yet still wore. He had to be quick. Eponine had called him saying that Grantaire had phoned her, and was totally drunk and sobbing like a mad man. She couldn't go and check on him because she was babysitting, and she called to ask why Enjolras wasn't there in the first place. He'd muttered something about sociology papers and hung up, already half way out the door.

Enjolras wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew it must have been bad if he'd resorted to calling Eponine. Grantaire didn't drunk-call unless he was upset. Otherwise he was happy to sit and babble to himself quite happily until he fell asleep or sobered up. It was usually the former.

Enjolras barrelled into the apartment, but it found it empty upon inspection. It was really only one big room, at first, with the main part being the living room and the smaller part, which was up a small step, being the kitchen. The open plan meant that it you could see practically the whole apartment as soon as you walked in. Enjolras could see empty beer bottles scattered around the place, littering the floor and the coffee table, but he sure as hell couldn't see Grantaire.

"R?" He called, setting his keys down on the bench by the front door.

He listened hard, straining to hear any sort of noise in the apartment. There was only silence. He shrugged out of his jacket, finding the white vest shirt beneath it sopping wet too, much to his dismay. As he kicked off his squelching shoes, he heard the broken sobs coming from somewhere along the hall.

Enjolras walked towards the sound, his heart racing. "R?" He asked again. No response.

The sobbing got louder as he approached Grantaire's bedroom, and he ducked his head inside, blonde curls throwing tiny droplets of icy rain around.

Grantaire was in there, on his hands and knees, looking under the bed for something. He threw a whole manner of things out from under it; old clothes, tattered books, empty bottles. There were more empty bottles lying on the floor by his bed, and Enjolras had no doubt that he'd drank most of them tonight. He watched for a moment as Grantaire stopped his search, crouching on all fours and breaking into uncontrollable sobs.

That was when Enjolras rushed toward him.

"Grantaire?" He asked, his voice soft. "Grantaire what's wrong? What's wrong?" He pulled him from all foors onto his knees, and from there he pulled him back so that he sat in his lap. He held his arms around him, strong and firm, and he could feel Grantaire shaking.

He sobbed more now, and the wracked his entire body, shaking him in Enjolras's arms. He couldn't answer, couldn't speak for tears. So he buried his head in Enjolras's chest, and tried to block out the pain he felt.

"She's dead." He mumbled into Enjolras's shirt, when the sobs had subsided a little. "She's dead." he repeated, over and  
over.

"Who's dead?" Enjolras asked, stroking Grantaire's hair.

"My sister." he slurred his words, his throat thick with tears.

Enjolras closed his eyes, resting his head against Grantaire's pressing his lips into his scalp. Grantaire gave a small yelp of a sob, and huddled himself close to Enjolras, as close as he could be. Enjolras petted him, rocked him slightly, tried to sooth him, but Grantaire continued to sniffle into his chest.

"I'm sorry," Enjolras murmured. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should've been here, I'm sorry."

He apologised profusely, but Grantaire wasn't listening. He was half caught between the loss of his sister, the only family he really had anymore, the hole that had been created in his heart because of her being gone, and the scent of Enjolras, the feel of his arms so firmly holding him together, his lips pressing into his skin every so often. He sniffled, and Enjolras gently squeezed him tighter.

"It's going to be okay, R." He told him in a hushed voice, hudding him close. He still rocked him gently. "It's going to be alright."

He hoped to whatever deity was up there that it was true.


End file.
